“I told you to go,” I said.
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. He was both terrified and defiant and I hated that it affected me so strongly.
“Ford—”
“No!” he shouted. His agitation was clear as he stormed into my living room. I went to close the door and then followed him. I stood in the living room entryway as he paced back and forth in the spacious room. I hadn’t managed to do much with the space besides get my couch and chair set up, along with the flat screen TV above the fireplace. The lights in the house were on an automatic timer so they’d already come on.
I steeled myself not to feel sorry for Ford, but when all he did was pace, I couldn’t help but let a little pity tug at my heart.
I’d done the same with Carter. I’d believed the shit he’d told me about just needing time to get his life in order. As a cop, I should have recognized the slickly delivered lines for what they were… an act. But I’d wanted that happily ever after that I’d been searching for my entire life and I’d allowed myself to believe Carter was it for me. That pesky inner voice had told me over and over again that Carter was full of shit, but I’d chosen to ignore it. My heart had been too fucking desperate to deal with things like reason and logic.
The problem with Ford was that my inner voice was being too fucking quiet when it came to him.
Or I wasn’t completely trusting it.
I wasn’t sure.
I wasn’t sure about anything when it came to the man who had yet to stop moving in front of me. He was tugging at his hair again like he’d done in the basement. It was ironic that I could read his physical cues so well but I didn’t know the simple stuff like what his favorite food was or when his birthday was.
“Ford,” I tried again.
“No,” he whispered with a shake of his head. He refused to look at me.
“I can’t do this with you anymore, Ford,” I said softly. “It fucking hurts too much. If you care about me at all—”
“Please, don’t, Cam.” Ford finally stopped pacing.
But I was done. I was physically exhausted, mentally drained, and emotionally raw. I made a move toward him. He seemed to know that I was going to forcibly remove him because he began backing up until he hit the fireplace behind him. It wasn’t until I was within a foot of him that he yelled, “Please, Cam! Please don’t give up on me! Please, I can’t lose you too!”
Too?
“Ford, what—”
“His name was Theo. We were sixteen and he was my best friend and then he was more and then I hurt him and… Please, Cam. I know I’m supposed to believe what we did was wrong, that what I feel is wrong, but I don’t. When I’m with you, I feel like…”
Ford wiped at his eyes. “Don’t give up on me. I can be better. I can change. I can be what you want.”
Surprisingly, there were no warning bells in my head when I stepped forward and put my hand beneath Ford’s chin to force him to look at me. His eyes were pools of blue that were swimming with tears.
How many times had this young man been forced to twist and turn himself into knots just to please someone else?
“Baby, I don’t want you to change for me. I just want you, exactly as you are.”
A tear slipped from his eye and I caught it with my thumb.
“Don’t give up on me, Cam.” More tears fell. “Okay?”
The last of the walls I’d tried to put up to distance myself from this one man came crashing down. “Never,” I breathed, then I covered his mouth with mine. He cried out, then wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back.
The kiss turned needy and quickly spiraled out of control. I told myself to slow things down so we could talk, but it’d been too long since I’d last touched him… since he’d touched me.
It was Ford who made the decision which direction we were going to go… by deciding which direction I should go. He walked me backwards until the backs of my legs hit the couch behind me. I shoved his coat off and let my hands slide up and down his back as he worked the sleeves over his wrists. He fed on my mouth, then my neck. Then he was pushing me down onto the couch into a sitting position. He straddled my lap and grabbed my face so he could kiss me.
I used my hands on his ass to urge his groin against mine. He gasped when our erections came into contact, then began grinding against me. He was breathing so heavily that he couldn’t keep up with kissing me. When he threw his head back, I eagerly covered his pulse point with my mouth. I somehow managed to not mark him in a visible spot like I wanted. Ford moaned as I licked, nipped, and kissed the muscles of his throat.